The Hales
by RenegadeNick27
Summary: After their family is killed in a "tragic" house fire, Laura and Derek Hale travel to New Orleans in search of refuge. They are looking for an old friend of Peters, Marcel.
1. Chapter 1: The Arrival

Chapter 1: The Arrival

The sounds of the St. Peter's nightlife filled the air. The bustling streets alone were enough to put off a young Derek Hale. To him, it was hard to believe that a place like this existed in the world. Up until now, all he had known was the forest covered landscape of Beacon Hills. He kept his ears open and his eyes peeled as he followed closely behind his sister Laura. She was the one who brought him here in the first place; she had told him that she had friends here in New Orleans that would help protect them.

"Who's this Marcel guy anyways, and why would he choose to help US?" Derek spat at the concrete as they walked.

Laura, who was relieved to hear her brother speak for the first time since they had left, turned around with a smile, "He's a friend. That's all that matters." She said, trying to feed hope into Derek. "Honestly, he's the best person we could go to in a situation like this. I hear he has this entire city wired,"

Derek analyzed the faces of the people passing by. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but there was something different about these civilians. _It must be the city_ he thought to himself. Their eyes didn't seem as innocent as the eyes of most of the residents of Beacon Hills. _I guess, if you live in a shady part of town, you're bound to be shady person._ He had been so lost in thought, that he didn't even notice his sister halt in front of him.

He ended up slamming right into her, nearly falling to the ground. For just a moment, he could've sworn that every head in the street had turned to look at him, but by the time he had regained balance, and looked up, everybody had seemed to go about with their business. Laura grabbed him by the arm and hoisted him back on his feet. "Were here," she mumbled. For the first time in three days, Laura had actually seemed scared. "Marcel said he'd meet us inside," her gaze at the building never broke.

"The Krazy Korner?" Derek questioned.

She nodded, "Don't judge a book by its cover, Derek," She finally looked at him, her eyes were a crimson red color, signaling that she was ready to use her abilities in case she needed them. "Watch your back," she said. It was strange how such a simple sentence could make Derek so uncomfortable.

"I thought you said he was a friend?"

"I did, but friends come and go, they're not the most trustworthy. The only people you can truly trust are your family," family, why did she have to bring it up? _What family? _He thought. Not even a week after the fire and Laura had begun talking about family again. Being the only two survivors of the Hale house fire, which killed everyone else in their family, Laura and Derek decided to flee Beacon Hills and take refuge somewhere else.

"You mean me?"

"Yes Derek, I mean you," she sighed, "and you have to start trusting me to, because I'm the Alpha now." She tried her best to make it sound like it was a choice that he could make, but sadly it wasn't. She took a moment to stare at the pavement, and weigh the consequences of her decision. She looked back up letting out a strong breath of confidence, as she marched across the street.

Derek fumbled to find the zipper on his green fleece sweater, trying to zip it up before he entered the building. The evening wind was bringing chills, and he didn't want to be cold if he had to leave in a hurry.

"My songs know what you did in the dark!" He screamed into the microphone. He held that last note for a while until the electric guitar and drums began to blast behind him. "So light em up-up-up, light em up-up-up" He looked so natural there on stage that it seemed insane to Derek that this was the same man Laura had been talking about earlier.

"That's Marcel!" He said in disbelief.

"Yup," Laura answered, locking eyes with the man on stage. He immediately noticed their red tint. She ended her subtle announcement of arrival, and proceeded to find a table away from the bar.

A few songs later Marcel jumped at the opportunity to take a break from his music, and introduce himself to the lovely young lady in red. He hurried to grab a seat across from Laura. "I'd recognize that sassy jaw anywhere," he began, "You must be Peter Hales daughter, Leah was it?" She sucked on her straw as her eyes acknowledged his presence.

"Laura," she corrected, "his niece,"

"And who might this be?" He turned his head to her brother.

The immediate eye contact startled the Derek, not knowing what else to do; he glared back at Marcel silently, folding his arms. "This is Derek, my brother."

"Grumpy one, isn't he?" Marcel jabbed

"He's been through a lot," Laura replied.

"So how is that old mutt Peter, I hope my friend's been keeping himself out of trouble,"

"He's dead." She stated bluntly. Derek tried his best to keep a stolid face, but he had to turn himself away from the conversation to do so.

Marcel's cocky attitude immediately depreciated into a somber frown. "I'm terribly sorry for your loss. What happened to him?"

"Coincidentally, that's exactly what we're here to discuss," Laura began, "The entire Hale family is being taken out, we believe by hunters. Derek and I came to New Orleans in order to find refuge, which I've been told is something you can give us." Derek had always been fascinated by how easily his sister could change character; she could always get right to business, without even beating around the bush.

"Well then, they were right," Marcel grinned, "I've got an empty apartment right on Orleans Street; I certainly wouldn't mind allowing a beautiful young lady, and her charming brother to stay there for a while," Derek rolled his eyes at Marcel's attempts to flirt; all he could do was hope that Laura was smarter than that.

"I'd love that." She smiled back, uncrossing her legs and standing up. Derek's eyes widened, and he almost choked on his drink. Had she really just made a deal with this obvious perv? She could sense his dismay, and sent him a look that said _you better behave yourself._

Marcel swung the keys around on his fingertip as they walked down the street. "It actually has a lovely view of the St. Peter's Cathedral," he babbled. Derek tried his best to listen, but he couldn't help but notice the silhouettes of something following them along the rooftops. He pretended to pay attention to the conversation with Marcel, but there was something about the man that infuriated him.

"Its… wonderful." Laura sounded less than pleased. The old white building they had stopped at had an 'Apartment for lease' sign nailed to the side. Smiling, Marcel reached and yanked the metal plate clean out of the wood… with one hand. Any normal person wouldn't have noticed this move, for it was supernaturally quick. Derek had had enough of Marcel's games.

Pinning him to the wall of the apartment complex, Derek growled at Marcel, "What are you? I've smelt something funny ever since we set foot in this place." Immediately, bodies dropped from the sky landing on their feet, and ready to fight, in a semi-circle around Derek. Laura knew that she wasn't going to keep Derek out of the loop for much longer.

"Derek!" She roared.

"Calm, calm," Marcel sang, keeping his suave persona about him. "The boy is merely confused,"

Derek pushed Marcel harder into the wall, and the plywood began to crack under the force. _How the hell is he so strong? _Derek wondered. Any normal human would be screaming in pain. "I'm not confused. Obviously you're not a human," Marcel's men grabbed Derek, and restrained him, pulling him out into the street. A crowd began to appear around the scene.

Landing softly back on the ground, Marcel calmly swept the dirt off of his black leather jacket. "I can tell you haven't spent much time out of Beacon Hills,"

Laura pleaded fearfully, "Marcel, please don't hurt him-"

"Oh, honey, I wasn't going to hurt him. In fact, a congratulations is in order; I applaud your bravery to go against the unknown Derek, so I'm going to let you in on a little secret," he strolled up to a now kneeling Derek, and whispered in his ear, "Werewolves aren't the only supernatural beings that walk this earth."

Derek didn't respond, not even when Marcel ordered his men to release him; he just continued kneeling on the street with his head down. _I couldn't even protect her here! Even when I surprised him! What kind of Beta am I?_

Marcel turned to Laura and tossed her the keys to the apartment, "enjoy your stay in New Orleans," he chimed before rushing away as quick as lightning. The crowd followed Marcel's lead, and dispersed into the city. They were alone once again.


	2. Chapter 2: The Following

Chapter 2: The Following

"How many times am I going to have to keep saying this?" Laura whined as she paced the room. "I was going to tell you he was a vampire as soon as I was sure," Derek remained silently seated on the old corduroy couch under the window. Giving up on her last sentence, Laura tried a different approach, "I'm sorry, but I knew you wouldn't follow me if you knew there were vampires here. Derek, I need you; just as much as you need me. We're the last two branches of the hail bloodline," Derek cringed at the word 'blood' "Ugg, you know what I mean," She stopped in front of him, and waited for a reply, but he said nothing to her. He knew it was his silence that would upset her the most. "Fine," she exhaled, throwing her hands in the air, "if you're going to act like a six-year-old, then I'm not going to stay here while you refuse to talk to me," she rushed towards the door, grabbing her jacket off of the wall as she left.

Laura's boots echoed down the dark street, "If that boy thinks he's going to be able to walk all over me still, he has another thing coming," she mumbled to herself. A gust of cold air blew past her, making her shiver. She pulled her jacket around herself, "Why doesn't he understand that we are stronger as a pack than alone? What do I have to do to make him realize that he's not an Omega. Dad wouldn't have had these types of issues with him. They were alyays so close,"

"You know, it's not safe here alone…" Laura whirled to find that Marcel had seemingly spawned out of the darkness of the night behind her.

"You know, I can rip your throat out before you get the chance to yell," she threatened.

Marcel laughed as he strolled up beside her, "That's funny… Peter used to say that to me all the time,"

"Well, I had to learn it from somewhere," she eased an they continued their late night walk together.

"I imagine Derek was a little flustered after that display,"

"Just an itty bit," she retorted as she pinched the air.

"At least he learned it from me, and not from some other bloodsucker,"

"Yea, but couldn't you have at least done it in a less… dramatic way?"

"I never waste an opportunity for a show of force. Besides, the witches around here were beginning to forget what happens when they break my rules, after that encounter they may think twice before crossing that line again," He lost himself for a moment, and gazed ahead into the dark… "But, with all of that aside, please send Derek my regards about the incident; I'm afraid that we got things off on the wrong foot."

"Did you, now?!" she laughed. "I'll tell him that," her white teeth glimmered in the streetlight in a way that made Marcel feel entranced.

"You have a lovely smile, miss," he spoke, stopping under the lamp.

"I didn't know you were into the fangless look," she jabbed.

"That's the thing about vampire girls, their all too emotional, and some have a really nasty bite when you tell them so," he revealed long set of streaks that scared the underside of his forearm.

"Laura put her hand over the sight "Ouch, you must have cried for hours"

"I may have," Marcel leaned in closer to her, drawing her in as well. The moment would have accelerated further if not for a bullet lodging itself into Marcel's back. She let out a gasp as she pushed him back.

Laura saw his hand cupped over his shoulder where one can assume the shot had exited. "What the hell?" he looked at his wound, then back up at Laura with an angry flame in his eyes, "You were just distracting me?"

"No!" she cried as a second bullet clanged off of the streetlight. Marcel, now infuriated, whipped around in the direction of the shooter, who was well on their way of a clean getaway, "I don't think so," he mumbled to himself, shooting off in their direction.

Laura's face mutated, and she got down on her hands and knees. Within a matter of seconds a wolf had taken her place on the sidewalk. After letting out a howl to call her pack, she bolted after Marcel and the shooter on all fours. Within the next few moments, she had found Marcel with his hand gripped around the neck of the shooter. She bared her teeth, and a low growl shook the man in Marcel's hands. "Care to explain this bullet wound sir?" Marcel chimed.

"Hale!" he chocked, pointing at Laura.

"Yes, yes, I know 'all hail Marcel'," he mocked.

"The wolf!" he gasped for air.

"Yes I know about the wolves, what I don't know about is you. Why did you shoot me?" the man choked out. "Damn" he sighed.

Laura came up behind Marcel, in human form once again, so silently, that he flinched when she spoke into his ear, "Check his collar,"

"Do you mind?" Marcel shouted exasperatedly, pushing her away. "Why should I even trust you after what you just did?"

Laura let out a frustrated sigh, "If I were plotting against you, you would already be dead, everybody knows a single werewolf bite can kill a vampire, so just check his collar for a tattoo or anything." Marcel shot her a weary glance, before ripping the neck of the man's black T-shirt. Sure enough, there was a marking scrawled across his chest.

"A," Marcel read. "What should that stand for?"

"Argent," Laura growled. She realized that she and Derek had been followed, and she wasn't quite too happy about it either.

"That sounds vaguely familiar… a hunter I assume?"

"Yes, of the same family that killed Peter,"

Marcel glanced at his now healed bullet wound, then back at the passed out man in his hand. He placed his palms on either side his head, and jerked. The man's neck cracked "Well, he's a dead hunter now,"

Derek waited a few moments after hearing the slam of the door before he broke down. Slamming his fist into the coffee table, he roared "Gaaah!" he heaved the table over, "This is all because of Kate! If she hadn't," he growled, "I'd still be with Dad, and Peter, and Mom, and Cora, and… damn it!" He lurched out of the couch and over the coffee table, landing his knuckles through the wall. Upon retracting his fist, Derek discovered claws extending out of his fingertips; this only angered him further.

He spun around, revealing his distorted face to the open window. In a matter of seconds he was outside on the prowl. Derek was gone; all of his humanity was replaced by the primal instinct of the wolf. His vision was blurred by a red tint as he searched the streets for a victim. Unfortunately for him, he came across someone who refused to be victimized. She hadn't noticed him yet, so he still had the upper hand, but she was definitely ready for any threat that would befall her.

Derek climbed to the rooftops and watched her sneak through the alley. Her current agenda was unknown to him, and frankly he didn't really care. He waited to hear the jingling of keys as they left her pocket before he leaped down to corner her. He approached her silently, step by step, slowly closing the gap in the alley way. Her smell was different than all of the others back in Beacon Hills. Something he assumed was common to the city. He was only partly correct. Unknown to him, he was about to make a move against one of the most powerful witches in New Orleans: Jane-Anne Dereraux.

She had felt his presence the moment he had leaped through the window. Jane-Anne hadn't seen a werewolf in town in nearly a century. She had almost forgotten how easy it was to put them in their place. "Devinent" she chanted, her back still turned to Derek. His legs and arms buckled under him, and he was forced to the floor with an audible 'Snap' from his wrists "Silentium" his howls of pain were cut off. "Weren't you ever taught not to sneak up on a witch?" the torture continued, until Derek was forced out of his wolfly form, and only a boy remained on the dirty concrete of St. Peters.

He decided to just lay there after that. Retaliation wasn't worth that pain again. He coughed, "So they are real," he tried his best to hide his fear as Jane-Anne stood over him.

"Who are you?" she interrogated.

Derek let out a pained laugh "Why would I tell you something like that?" She tilted her head as she raised a single hand; a shockwave of pain jolted through Derek. "Agh!" his back arched the wrong way, while the rest of his body contorted.

She repeated, this time more punctually "Who. Are. You,"

"Peter!" he shouted. "I'm Peter Hale!" She froze. The pain stopped. All was silent. She was shocked by this answer. He leaped at this opportunity to pounce, pinning her to the ground. "So you've heard of me before," he began.

"You're NOT Peter Hale." She clenched his wrists on her throat "I would know, I watched him leave the city." She pushed him off of her with immense force. He flew all the way to the street and rolled further, catching himself this time. He prepared to pounce at her again, but before he tore her throat out, he gave her one last means of escape "How do you know my uncle?"


	3. Chapter 3: The Search

**Chapter 3: The Search**

Laura sighed as she stared at the lifeless corpse of the hunter Marcel had just dropped. A piece of her had wanted to interrogate him for answers to the important questions, like: "Who sent you?" Or, "Why are you hunting us?" but the other part of knew they were better off with him dead. His eyes were closed, which made him look even more innocent than he already did. Marcel had taken his weapons off of him, and had thrown him into a corner with a couple beer bottles between two buildings for someone else to find. "Do you still want to protect us now that you know what you're protecting us from?"

Marcel appeared behind her and laid his bloody hand on her bare shoulder, "If I was scared of a few hunters, I wouldn't be the prince of the city." Goosebumps rose on her skin from his touch. _It can't be this easy; I WONT make it this easy_. She willed herself not to immediately fall into his arms. _ I'm stronger than this. I don't NEED a man to kiss my wounds. _

She turned away from the body, "So where was your royal guard five minutes ago. I doubt they would just stand idly by while you were shot in the back,"

"If I needed them to protect me I wouldn't be the prince of this city," he whispered, grabbing her wrist. He raised it slowly under his nose. She could see the black veins protruding from the skin just under his eyes.

"What are you doing?" she jerked her hand away from his grasp, nearly fumbling over the body as she reeled back. She had never seen a real vampire either, and the idea of having her blood sucked was not very appealing.

"I'm sorry." Marcel coughed, seemingly, snapping out of a haze. "I may have gotten a little carried away."

"You think?"

He stepped aside for her to pass by him "I think it'd be best if you returned to your brother, if you were right when you said there were more, than he might need your help right now,"

Derek! She had totally forgotten about him. The look on her face alone gave that away though. She pounced to the ground, and by the time her hands reached the concrete, they had morphed into their wolfish form along with the rest of her body. She gave Marcel one last thankful glance before careening down the dark street.

"I don't wish to fight the blood of my friend," she answered, letting her defensive hands fall to her waist, "You'll calm yourself before I tell you anything,"

Derek knew that he wasn't going to win in a physical fight; whatever this woman was held immense power. He rose from his crouched stance and allowed his face to return to normal. Her mouth smirked at Derek's resemblance to Peter, but her eyes persisted in their assertive tone. "Well?" he stabbed. "Are you going to tell me about Peter or not?"

"Claws…" arms crossed, she pointed her head towards the extended daggers protruding from his fingertips. He pleaded with his eyes, but all she needed to do was raise an eyebrow challengingly to force him to do it. He sighed as he retracted them. "Come," she commanded, turning around and walking towards the door at the end of the alley way.

He followed her as she wordlessly unlocked the door, entered the musty storage room, tipped a book on the shelf, turned a half empty mason jar of an unknown liquid 180 degrees, pulled the secret door behind said shelf open, closed it, crossed the pitch black basement of a different building, climb up a splintered wooden staircase, and opened the door on top. "Sophie?" she called, steeping into a kitchen, "you're not guna believe who I just ran into,"

"Who could possibly surprise you?" another voice echoed from another room.

"Come and see," Soon after a girl appeared in an empty door frame across the room with a dirty towel draped over her shoulder.

"A complete stranger," she inspected Derek, "Wow Annie," she giggled as she strolled into the kitchen and up to them. "I never thought I'd see the day you brought home a younger man…" she peered over Jane-Anne's shoulder at Derek again before leaning back into her sister "Very young; are you sure he's not your son?" she laughed.

"Ha ha" she replied dryly. "Take another look at him," she said stepping aside, "Does he remind you of anyone?"

Derek glanced over at Jane-Anne skeptically. If she expected someone to see a resemblance between him and Peter, then she was not going to get the response she wanted. "You know… he does kinda look like Tyler Hoechlin," she smiled, "He's cute! Where'd you find him? I want one." Derek looked stunned, had she just compared him to the man on the cover of the 'Men's Health' magazine?

"He's Peters nephew," Sophie's eyes widened, "Oh my god" her voice was deep now. "Peter Hale?" Jane-Anne nodded. Her jaw dropped as she took another look at Derek, "What's his name?

"Derek," he inserted frustratedly, "I've done everything you've asked for, now will you just tell me who you are, and how you knew Peter?"

Jane-Anne, sensing his transformation coming on, changed from a sister, to a protector. "Were witches Derek," she threatened, "if you're going to transform again, know that you won't see the light of the full moon ever again," She raised one arm and pointed it towards Derek, and she crossed the other over her sister. Derek was hardly in control of his emotions, and the fire inside of him only thrived on the situation. He tried his best though to keep his human form, but all the anger was returning to him in heaps, and Jane-Anne's threats were not helping the situation. "Sophie, bring me Peter's ring," she ordered, and Sophie was gone through the door she had come from.

"Stop it!" He yelled, "Stop saying his name!" Derek looked in pain as he raised his clawed hand to cover his face.

"Derek you can fight it," Jane-Anne encouraged, "Your better than the wolf. If Pe-"She paused, "HE could learn to control it, there's no doubt in my mind that you will be able to," Derek grabbed the wooden pillar rising out of the kitchen counter. Her words were still not helping. The wood splintered under his grip as he roared. "Damn it," Jane-Anne growled before she used force on him.

The phone-chord sprang from the wall and wrapped it around Derek's wrist. A moment later, jolts of electricity were pulsing through him, causing him to fall to the floor. He was out like a light.

Laura knew something was wrong the moment the apartment was in sight. The open window is what worried her the most. She fumbled at the door with the keys, and upon entering the apartment her worst fears came true. The disheveled coffee table and the hole in the wall said it all. Derek was gone, and so was Laura's last hope for a family. All she could think to do was cry until she realized that his bag was sitting next to the couch. She tore through the bag in search of a shirt. His scent would lead her to him. She raised it to her nose, and focused all of her attention on the smell of her brother. _Where are you?_ She opened her eyes to find a red tint over everything. She could even see clouds of stench left behind from Derek's emotional sweat.

She followed the trail out of the window and down Orleans Street. The scent was strange though, she knew that different emotional responses gave off different smells, but this cloud of stench was like all of his emotions had decided to band together and rebel against him. Wherever he was, she just knew that he was in trouble, if not dead. The scent led into an empty alley way, and for the first time, Laura saw a different cloud of stench. From their placement, it looked as if Derek had been running from something and had been ambushed by… something. The second cloud was like nothing she had seen before. Laura couldn't stand the, peppery, sulfur scent of it, but she knew it would lead her to her brother.

Derek found himself lying on a couch. His head was clouded, and his eyes were cloudy, but he felt at peace. It was something he hadn't felt at all since the fire. His whole body seemed heavy as he struggled to sit up. He couldn't help but notice that his shirt was off, and draped over his shoulder. "We thought we'd lost you for a second there," Sophie greeted.

"Where am I?" he raised his hand to massage his forehead.

"You don't remember?" Sophie took a seat next to him on the couch. "Well… you just appeared in the street next to our house," she stuttered a bit, "We did our best to stop the bleeding," she grabbed his forearm, revealing the dark wounds on his wrist. "But don't worry it wont scar."

Derek tried to remember the last 12 hours, but the last thing he remembered was walking down the street with Laura and Marcel. He massaged his head some more, as if it would help him recall, but the only noticeable thing he felt was a cold, hard bead running across his forehead. "What the hell?" He mumbled, sticking his hand out in front of him. Sure enough, there was a metal ring wrapped around his finger.

"That's from us…" Sophie began, trying to think up a story. "you were freaking out about something, and the only way we could calm you down was to tell you that the ring was 'magical'," she giggled, "It is said to ward off bad spirits. Coincidently, the moment we got it on you, you feel right asleep."

"Gumbo, anyone?" Jane-Anne chimed from the kitchen.

Sophie smiled in excitement. "We'd love some."


End file.
